


The Day and the Way We Met

by godsdaisiechain-drabbles (preux)



Series: Wodehouse universe drabbles [2]
Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Pre-Canon, indeedsir Weekly Drabble Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:28:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preux/pseuds/godsdaisiechain-drabbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Indeed Sir Weekly Drabble Challenge 'Pre Canon'</p><p>Views of Bertie Wooster before he and Jeeves officially meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day and the Way We Met

**Jeeves**  
He smiled cheerfully, walking with young Lady Caligula in the garden one afternoon. I overheard her mentioning him in the drawing room. “Oh, Bertie? He is handsome and rich and pleasant enough. A fool, but he’ll do.”

“Admit it Florence, you love him. He’s such a darling lamb.”

“I do, but it will not make me soft. Lamb or not, he’ll have to grow up. I’ll wipe that goofy smile from his face.” She could be so needlessly, ruthlessly cruel.

I left Steeple Bumpleigh. Lord Brancaster sleeps frequently, and I study his books assiduously. I must forget young Mr. Wooster.

  
**Bertie: Some years later**  
I always thought getting engaged should be a bit of a wheeze, what? Maybe a bit of a smooch or some cuddling in the moonlight, or somesuch. Bongo spoke highly of such things when we were alone and he was in his cups. The beazels seemed to want to bestow kisses and hugs.

It would have been so very welcome to the young Wooster. Such things had been rather thin on the rocky ground since my mother had died.

But Florence isn’t like that. And on top of it Meadowes, who I thought was an ally, has been pinching things.

 **Agatha**  
She had promised his parents to look after him and see him well situated. He’d been so promising as a young boy, taking the Scripture Knowledge Prize and making the best collection of wild flowers. Losing his mother had destroyed him. Everyone called him a fool, thought him an ass and let him get away with his lounging.

Even if she could convince him that he was capable enough to become an adult, Florence should never marry him. She needed a firmer, stronger hand to help her master that temper. If only Dahlia would help and stop coddling the boy.

 **Honoria**  
There was a great deal to disapprove of in Bertie Wooster. He stayed out too late and drank and slept too much. When awake, he talked incessantly about racing and gaming. The checked pattern on his suit made the eyes water. He was silly and overly fond of his food. At sports, he was indifferent, sloppy, and lazy. Even among the idle rich, he seemed particularly idle.

Still, one could not help liking him. He was handsome and pleasant and cheerful. She never heard him say anything to hurt a person’s feelings, even hers, even big, muscular, sporty Honoria Glossop.

 **Jarvis**  
“The young man in 3A? Bertram Wilberforce Wooster? Named after a race horse, he said. Friendly young man.” Jarvis had had a long morning. Most of the valets and housekeepers felt he was beneath them. He liked this newcomer.

“Wooster?” The tall dark man was startled, and Jarvis patted his arm reassuringly.

“I know it’s hard with these toffs sometimes, but he’s an OK sort. Very free with tips. That last bloke was a fool.”

“Really?”

“Stole. Nice young man like that.” Jarvis regarded the new valet. “He’s just back. Out all night. Nice to meet you…”

“Jeeves. Reginald Jeeves”


End file.
